-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Толкин
-
- Властелин колец: Братство кольца
-
- Стр. 100/422
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
After
stumbling
along
for
some
way
along
the
stream
,
they
came
quite
suddenly
out
of
the
gloom
.
As
if
through
a
gate
they
saw
the
sunlight
before
them
.
Coming
to
the
opening
they
found
that
they
had
made
their
way
down
through
a
cleft
in
a
high
sleep
bank
,
almost
a
cliff
.
At
its
feet
was
a
wide
space
of
grass
and
reeds
;
and
in
the
distance
could
be
glimpsed
another
bank
almost
as
steep
.
A
golden
afternoon
of
late
sunshine
lay
warm
and
drowsy
upon
the
hidden
land
between
.
In
the
midst
of
it
there
wound
lazily
a
dark
river
of
brown
water
,
bordered
with
ancient
wilows
,
arched
over
with
wilows
,
blocked
with
falen
wilows
,
and
flecked
with
thousands
of
faded
wilow-leaves
.
The
air
was
thick
with
them
,
fluttering
yelow
from
the
branches
;
for
there
was
a
warm
and
gentle
breeze
blowing
softly
in
the
valey
,
and
the
reeds
were
rustling
,
and
the
wilow-boughs
were
creaking
.
"
Wel
,
now
I
have
at
least
some
notion
of
where
we
are
!
"
said
Merry
.
"
We
have
come
almost
in
the
opposite
direction
to
which
we
intended
.
This
is
the
River
Withywindle
!
I
will
go
on
and
explore
.
"
He
passed
out
into
the
sunshine
and
disappeared
into
the
long
grasses
.
After
a
while
he
reappeared
,
and
reported
that
there
was
fairly
solid
ground
between
the
cliff-foot
and
the
river
;
in
some
places
firm
turf
went
down
to
the
water
's
edge
.
"
What
's
more
,
"
he
said
,
'
there
seems
to
be
something
like
a
footpath
winding
along
on
this
side
of
the
river
.
If
we
turn
left
and
folow
it
,
we
shal
be
bound
to
come
out
on
the
east
side
of
the
Forest
eventualy
.
"
"
I
dare
say
!
"
said
Pippin
.
"
That
is
,
if
the
track
goes
on
so
far
,
and
does
not
simply
lead
us
into
a
bog
and
leave
us
there
.
Who
made
the
track
,
do
you
suppose
,
and
why
?
I
am
sure
it
was
not
for
our
benefit
.
I
am
getting
very
suspicious
of
this
Forest
and
everything
in
it
,
and
I
begin
to
believe
all
the
stories
about
it
.
And
have
you
any
idea
how
far
eastward
we
should
have
to
go
?
"
"
No
,
"
said
Merry
,
"
I
have
n't
.
I
do
n't
know
in
the
least
how
far
down
the
Withywindle
we
are
,
or
who
could
possibly
come
here
often
enough
to
make
a
path
along
it
.
But
there
is
no
other
way
out
that
I
can
see
or
think
of
.
"
There
being
nothing
else
for
it
,
they
filed
out
,
and
Merry
led
them
to
the
path
that
he
had
discovered
.
Everywhere
the
reeds
and
grasses
were
lush
and
tal
,
in
places
far
above
their
heads
;
but
once
found
,
the
path
was
easy
to
folow
,
as
it
turned
and
twisted
,
picking
out
the
sounder
ground
among
the
bogs
and
pools
.
Here
and
there
it
passed
over
other
rils
,
running
down
gulies
into
the
Withywindle
out
of
the
higher
forest-lands
,
and
at
these
points
there
were
tree-trunks
or
bundles
of
brushwood
laid
carefuly
across
.
The
hobbits
began
to
feel
very
hot
.
There
were
armies
of
flies
of
all
kinds
buzzing
round
their
ears
,
and
the
afternoon
sun
was
burning
on
their
backs
.
At
last
they
came
suddenly
into
a
thin
shade
;
great
grey
branches
reached
across
the
path
.
Each
step
forward
became
more
reluctant
than
the
last
.
Sleepiness
seemed
to
be
creeping
out
of
the
ground
and
up
their
legs
,
and
faling
softly
out
of
the
air
upon
their
heads
and
eyes
.
Frodo
felt
his
chin
go
down
and
his
head
nod
.
Just
in
front
of
him
Pippin
fell
forward
on
to
his
knees
.
Frodo
halted
.
"
It
's
no
good
,
"
he
heard
Merry
saying
.
"
Ca
n't
go
another
step
without
rest
.
Must
have
nap
.
It
's
cool
under
the
wilows
.
Less
flies
!
"
Frodo
did
not
like
the
sound
of
this
.
"
Come
on
!
"
he
cried
.
"
We
ca
n't
have
a
nap
yet
.
We
must
get
clear
of
the
Forest
first
.
"
But
the
others
were
too
far
gone
to
care
.
Beside
them
Sam
stood
yawning
and
blinking
stupidly
.
Suddenly
Frodo
himself
felt
sleep
overwhelming
him
.
His
head
swam
.
There
now
seemed
hardly
a
sound
in
the
air
.
The
flies
had
stopped
buzzing
.
Only
a
gentle
noise
on
the
edge
of
hearing
,
a
soft
fluttering
as
of
a
song
half
whispered
,
seemed
to
stir
in
the
boughs
above
.
He
lifted
his
heavy
eyes
and
saw
leaning
over
him
a
huge
wilow-tree
,
old
and
hoary
.
Enormous
it
looked
,
its
sprawling
branches
going
up
like
reaching
arms
with
many
long-fingered
hands
,
its
knotted
and
twisted
trunk
gaping
in
wide
fissures
that
creaked
faintly
as
the
boughs
moved
.
